Each and every file folder and loose document was meticulously stacked and aligned parallel to the edge of the desk. The pencils in the drawer were sharpened to the finest points possible. Hoseok's hair was stiff with product and unlikely to be ruffled by the gentle breeze of the fan. His suit was crisp, his shoes polished, and his coffee piping hot.

The only thing in the entire office of Jung & Jeon, PLLC that was even remotely out of place was the damned spray paint on the brick wall of the building directly opposite Hoseok's window. Once again, for probably the sixth or seventh week in a row, Hoseok found himself on the phone with the local sheriff's department, calling to report an act of vandalism.

Today, the entire side of the twenty-four hour diner was covered in multicolored puzzle pieces, but as soon as the owner painted over it there would probably be a giant cartoon raccoon wearing sunglasses and a snapback or an enormous pair of Beats headphones plugged into an equally huge iPhone. How could any human being manage to paint something so big and so detailed in a single night? Furthermore, the diner was open all night; how had the person never been caught?

Hoseok suspected the answer to the second question was that the owner of the diner actually liked it. It was free publicity and not the ‘there’s a cockroach in my soup’ kind. For as many days as the side of his building remained covered in what Hoseok considered graffiti, people flocked to the diner to see the ‘artwork’ and stuck around for a delicious patty melt.

“Yeah, this is Jung Hoseok,” he barked into the receiver. “Yes, again. I’m calling to report… yes. Yes, again.” Hoseok heard a snicker behind him and turned his chair to see his partner leaning against the doorway, attempting to stifle a laugh behind his hand. “Yes, today it’s a giant puzzle. Look, I know that Mr. Kim doesn’t give a about it, but I’m the one who has to look at it all day.” He made a gesture at Jeongguk across the room, waving an arm to show his impatience with the police. “What do I want you to do? What do I want you to do? I want you to do your damn job and catch this !”

Hoseok hung up the phone, slamming the receiver into the cradle with a loud crash. “I think it’s kinda cool,” Jeongguk commented.

“Yeah, well if you like it so much then maybe we should switch offices because I’ve had about all I can take.”

Jeongguk scoffed. “And give up my own private bathroom? I think not. Sorry, partner.” He backed away from the door and made his way into his own office, leaving Hoseok to scowl at the puzzle a little longer.

The truth was, Hoseok didn’t mind the paintings. The artwork was good, and it was nice that the view from his desk changed every couple of weeks. It was certainly better than bare brick or a boring white wall. It was the principle that bothered him.

Hoseok was a lawyer. He had an intense love of the legal system, and vandalism was against the law. Up until recently, Hoseok had trusted the police to uphold the law, and he was frustrated that the police weren’t doing anything, or at least not enough, to stop this (admittedly very talented) criminal.

With a loud sigh, Hoseok snatched a pencil off of the desk and began going over a client’s file, turning his back on his own desk to avoid looking at the puzzle.

“Wow. That is…” Jeongguk trailed off, left speechless by the sight before him.

“I know, right?” Hoseok replied. He was already on hold with the sheriff’s office, waiting to file his third report of the week.

“And Seokjin still doesn’t care that his building is being defiled like this?” In the past week the murals had gone from cartoon paintings of animals and random inanimate objects to realistic depictions of couples in… compromising positions.

“He’s definitely been quicker about covering it up la- yes, this is Jung Hoseok. Yes, I know you’re tired of hearing from me, but I think you’re gonna wanna see this one. Could you please- No, I know you don’t want to waste manpower on a case of vandalism, but- I know, I know, ma’am. Trust me, I know, but this is- MA’AM!” Hoseok finally had enough of the operator’s interruptions. “Just listen to me. I was annoyed by the puzzles and the nine foot tall vases of peonies and the bumblebee fighting the hummingbird, but this is not the same thing. What I’m looking at… it’s…”

“,” Jeongguk supplied.

“ography, thank you. It’s a life sized painting of… of a couple… in the act of making love.”

“, partner. They’re ing. Nothing loving about that.”

Hoseok covered the microphone and hissed at Jeongguk to shut the up before returning to his call. “Ma’am, please send someone out here. I have a feeling Mr. Kim might want to file a report this time.”

Mr. Kim was definitely going to want to file a report. Half of the couple painted on the side of his building was Mr. Kim himself, and he was certainly not decent. Only about 2% of his body was covered, and while he looked… he looked good like that, Hoseok was sure it wasn’t something Seokjin wanted his customers seeing.

Hoseok tore his eyes away from the larger than life display of passion only to find Jeongguk studying it like he was taking notes in his head. “Does that guy look familiar?”

“Who? Seokjin? Of course he looks familiar. He works right next door.”

“No… no, the other one.” Jeongguk moved closer to the window for a better look.

“You can only see his back, Jeongguk. How could he look familiar?”

“Shhh. I’m thinking. I know I’ve seen him somewhere before. It’s… Look at his neck, that curve. It’s so familiar. And the moles there on his arm. I know that pattern. I… I’ve joked about it before.” Hoseok watched Jeongguk with eyebrows raised, waiting for it to click because Hoseok had only ever heard Jeongguk joke about one person’s moles and it was, “Oh my God, it’s Taehyung!” There it was. “What the is Taehyung doing ing Seokjin?”

“Jeongguk, it's just a painting,” Hoseok reminded him. “It’s not a photograph. This isn't evidence of anything. And anyway, isn't Taehyung in Canada right now? I find it unlikely he's been ing Seokjin from a different country.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, but… that’s definitely my boyfriend up there. Seokjin needs to paint over that right the now!” Jeongguk stormed out of the office. The door slammed behind him, and Hoseok watched him stalk over to the diner to confront the owner.

“Mr. Jung.” Hoseok turned to find his receptionist standing in the doorway, eyes glued to the wall across the alley. “Your, uh, 10:30 is here,” she mumbled, distracted.

Right. Work. There was to be done. “Thank you, Hani. Could you please point them toward the conference room? I won’t be meeting any clients in my office until that is taken care of.” Hani nodded and moved to leave the office. “Wait, one more thing.”

“Yes, sir?”

“See what it would cost to put up a surveillance camera in the alley.”

It took three weeks and two more increasingly explicit paintings before Hoseok could get the security camera installed. He didn’t bother to hide the camera, assuming just the sight of it would be a deterrent, but as soon as he saw the footage, he wished he had.

His laptop played back images of the previous night. At first, it was all flashes of headlights and a blank white wall. He scanned forward until he finally saw someone entering the alley, a small figure, thin enough that a stiff wind could knock him over. The man was dressed in all black, a parka with the hood pulled up covering most of his face. He walked all the way to the back of the alley where the diner’s dumpster was, and a few moments later, he returned with a tall ladder.

The man went out of frame. He was somewhere in front of Hoseok’s building, near his office window, probably right beneath the camera. Hoseok couldn't see him anymore, but he knew the guy was still there. Tiny wisps of smoke drifted across the screen, suggesting that the guy was probably leaned against Hoseok's building having a cigarette.

The video didn't have any sound, so Hoseok was startled out of his seat when a face appeared on screen, almost entirely obscured by a mask and hood. Small eyes narrowed further before the whole screen went black. Hoseok continued to watch for a few seconds, and then he tapped the touchpad to see if the video was still playing. It was. The motherer sprayed paint at the camera so he could work in peace. “!”

Hoseok slammed the laptop closed and looked across the alley. Today’s work was the most explicit yet. Seokjin was resting back against a mountain of pillows, looking completely ed out, covered in and nothing else. His… everything was exposed, and off to the far right was a dark shadow of a fully clothed man walking out a door. The other man didn’t look like Taehyung this time. He was less detailed than before, but definitely shorter than Taehyung, more delicate looking.

Actually, every new painting since the content change had featured Seokjin along with another man, a different man each time. Hoseok was starting to think someone had an agenda.

Just then, someone outside the office let out a shrill shriek. Seokjin must’ve been seeing the wall for the first time. “I’ll kill him!” Seokjin screamed and stomped back to the front of the diner, pulling out his phone and angrily stabbing at the screen on his way.

Okay, so Hoseok had originally been frustrated about the vandalism, and then he’d been appalled by the subject matter. Now… Now he felt like Seokjin was being targeted. It wasn’t like he and Seokjin were all that close, but it felt wrong to just let someone get away with that kind of harassment. He took a quick look around his office and began making a list of things he’d need. Hoseok was going to hold a stake out in his office.

In his time as a lawyer, Hoseok had done very little detective work. His job was more focused on estate planning than criminal law, but he’d seen enough crime dramas to get the gist of how stake outs work.

The office was dark. Hani had somehow managed to get the camera lens replaced, and Hoseok had set it up by the window, facing the diner. He had brought snacks and things to entertain himself, but he couldn’t really do any of those things without light. He didn’t want to give himself away, so he sat at his desk and tried not to fall asleep while he waited.

Three hours in, Hoseok came to the conclusion that stake outs were boring. His snacks were long gone, the desk littered with empty soda cans and chip bags, and he had to piss like a racehorse. He wished his office had the ensuite, but Jeongguk had claimed that office before they even signed the lease on the place. Surely Hoseok wouldn’t miss too much if he just snuck off to the bathroom for a minute. His knee bounced for a moment before he made a decision and hurried down the hall to the bathroom.

Hoseok couldn’t have been gone more than a couple of minutes, but by the time he returned, there was movement outside the window. The guy was back, still dressed all in black and rifling through a backpack on the ground. He already had the ladder leaned up against the side of the diner, and when he found what he was looking for in the backpack, he started climbing it. The way the guy worked, focused and careful, was so fascinating, it made Hoseok forget his objective completely. He leaned back in his desk chair and watched as Seokjin came to life on the wall.

It started with an outline, just a vague human form until the guy started adding details and shadows. The glow of Seokjin’s skin, the pink of his full lips, the crease of his brow… everything was so true to life that it was obvious the guy knew Seokjin personally and in more than a chef/customer way.

It was when the guy started painting Seokjin’s partner for the night that Hoseok really perked up. A slender frame appeared, the waist narrow, the skin tone slightly more tan than Seokjin’s, long fingers threaded through dark hair. The guy carved out high cheekbones and an angled jaw, and when Hoseok began to recognize the beginnings of a heart shaped mouth, he decided it was time to let the artist know he had an audience.

Hoseok quietly slipped out the back door and into the alley, rolling his feet heel to toe against the ground to avoid making any noise. “Huh,” he said when he was standing only a few feet away from the vandal, “that looks an awful lot like me.”

The guy jumped and turned to press his back against the wet paint. He glanced to where the alley opened out onto the street like he was about to bolt, but Hoseok stepped over to block his path. “You know, I’ve never actually seen Seokjin like that. Well, except on that wall there. Care to tell me why you hate him so much?”

He didn't answer. Of course he didn't. He just stood there and stared with wide eyes and parted lips that puffed clouds of steam into the air with every shallow exhale. Hoseok cocked his hip to the side and raised his eyebrows, but even that didn't get him an answer.

“Fine then, what about a name? You got one of those?”

The guy's eyes darted right and left before settling on the pavement between them. “S-Suga,” he stuttered.

“You can't expect me to believe that. Your name can't be Sugar,” Hoseok argued.

“N-no. Suga. No R. Just Suga.” Suga gestured to the wall where he'd already left his signature, a tiny uga in the center of the bottom curve of a large, swooping S.

“Okay, Suga. I'm Hoseok, but it looks like you might have already known that,” he said as his eyes drifted back to his own face on the side of the diner.

“No,” Suga whispered to his shoes.

“No? No what?”

“No, I don't know you. I just saw you. In the diner.” Suga was starting to shiver in the cold now that he wasn't moving around, and when he jerked his chin in the direction of Hoseok's office it looked unintentionally violent.

“, you must be freezing. Why don't we go inside and get you a cup of coffee.” Hoseok started toward the front of the diner, but Suga lunged at him and grabbed his elbow.

“No! Not in there. Please don't make me go in there,” he begged, and after a moment of thought, Hoseok agreed, leading him into the office instead.

Hoseok was terrible at making coffee. It must have been the awful combination of too much water and not enough grounds and the ancient coffee maker that barely heated the water to the proper temperature. Yoongi added a whole pack of cocoa mix to his cup and it still tasted more like dishwater than coffee, but it was warm (not quite hot, but warm was better than cold) and Hoseok seemed content now that Yoongi's lips were no longer dangerously blue.

“He’s my ex,” Yoongi finally admitted when he could feel all of his fingers and bend them without worrying that they’d snap off. “Seokjin is my ex, and he cheated on me.”

“Oh.” Hoseok’s voice held so much sympathy in just one word that Yoongi found it physically painful. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” Yoongi shrugged. It wasn’t like anything could be done about it, unless Hoseok could turn back time. “It couldn’t have happened too long ago. Just last month there was a blinged out peacock on that diner wall. Is that what made you change your paintings?”

“Seokjin was letting me practice my work on the diner. He said to just paint whatever I thought people would like to see. That wall has seen some of my best work. After I found out, I couldn’t bring myself to paint another cat chasing its tail. I want everyone to know what kind of person Seokjin really is.”

“But they’re not real, you know? I haven’t ever slept with Seokjin, and I’m positive my partner’s boyfriend hasn’t either.”

“I know,” Yoongi sighed, “but I don’t know who the guy is. I’ve just been picking faces out of the regular diner crowd… Jimin the busboy, that tall guy with the dimples who sits in the corner booth by the window every night from midnight to dawn. You’ve been in there a lot more often lately. I just assumed…”

“Ah, you know what they say about assuming things.” Hoseok gave a dry chuckle at his own… well okay, he must have thought it was a joke, but Yoongi knew better. “Anyway, it’s not me, and this is my office. You know, a professional place of business and everything. It would be really great if my clients didn’t have to see… that every time they need me to draft a will. Would it be possible for you to find another canvas? Or another, less ographic theme? Maybe go back to painting animals. I kinda liked those.”

“No ing way!” Yoongi growled. “Seokjin deserves this. He cheated on me. Four years together and he couldn’t even be bothered to tell me he doesn’t love me anymore, that it’s over and he’s already found someone to replace me. He was so selfish! I can’t just let him get away with that.”

“Have you ever thought about Seokjin’s side of this? Have you ever asked him what happened and why?” Yoongi should have known better than to try to argue with a lawyer. ing logical arguments. “It might help you heal so you can move on if you just go talk to him. Granted he’s going to be angry after all this.” Hoseok waved his hand toward the window, and Yoongi suddenly realised that Hoseok had had a front row seat to view everything he’d painted in the last six months.

“I won’t be able to get rid of that tonight,” Yoongi stated, dropping his paper cup in the trash can by the door. “That wall is too big to paint twice in one night, but I’ll try to make it a little less risque before the sun comes up. Maybe by morning I’ll be ready to talk to Seokjin.”

Sometimes things happened so gradually that those involved didn’t even realise what was going on until they were past the point of no return. That was how Yoongi managed to get over Seokjin and fall for Hoseok.

“Hello, I’m from Hot Shot Couriers,” Yoongi introduced himself to the pretty young receptionist.

“Oh, yes. Sorry, but Mr. Jung hasn’t given me the documents yet. I’ll be right-” The receptionist was interrupted when the phone began to ring. “Um, I need to get that. Hold on a sec.”

Yoongi nodded and took a seat on the couch, right next to a huge potted fern. He had to scoot over twice because the fronds kept waving in the draft from the door and tickling his neck. The third time it happened, he gave up sitting and walked back up to the desk instead.

“Yes sir, just let me transfer you,” the receptionist told whoever had called, and then to Yoongi she said, “You can go on back. Mr. Jung is straight down that hallway, last door on the right.”

Yoongi wasn't stupid. He remembered the building and the hallway. He remembered the office and the terrible coffee. He would have to be a complete moron not to make the connection that Mr. Jung and Hoseok were the same person, and yet he was still surprised to hear that raspy voice when he knocked on the door.

“Mr. Jung, I'm from the courier ser-”

“, yeah, the documents. They're right- oh! Suga.” Yoongi felt like he was blushing right down to his toes as he nodded, nervously ruffling the hair on the back of his head. “I'm sorry. I'm usually more organised than this, but it's been a hell of a morning, and you're here a lot earlier than the usual kid.”

“I normally don't take this side of town. Didn't want to run into Jin, but half our employees called out with the flu so… Here I am.”

“Yes, here you are.” Hoseok grinned up at Yoongi from the other side of the desk. “How are you, Suga? I noticed you haven't been vandalising a particular piece of property lately. Did you work things out with your ex?”

“Uh, not exactly. I haven’t talked to him yet, but you were right.” Hoseok raised an eyebrow. “My form of therapy wasn’t working for me and was harming others. That’s not what I want.”

“That’s a good conclusion. I’m glad you’re trying something a bit more healthy. If it’s therapy you want though, I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

“Ah, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t really know you.”

“You could get to know me,” Hoseok offered hopefully. “If you want. It’s totally up to you. Just know that I’m a good listener, and I like to help.”

Hoseok stared as if waiting for an answer. He was still holding the envelope full of documents. Yoongi figured he’d have to give some kind of response if he wanted to get the hell out of there, which he definitely did. Hoseok was nice, but nice made Yoongi uncomfortable.

“Thanks… I’ll keep that in mind.” Hoseok smiled, satisfied, his lips lopsided but still vaguely heart-shaped, and Yoongi had to swallow back the little ‘awww’ that tried to escape his throat.

“Well, I’m sure you need to get back to work, as do I. I won’t keep you any longer.” Finally, Hoseok handed over the envelope so Yoongi could escape. He made it all the way to the hallway before Hoseok called to him. “Suga. Take care of yourself, yeah?”

Hoseok was obviously a good guy. He seemed to genuinely care about Yoongi despite not knowing him. His moral compass appeared to point in the right direction, and he was intelligent. No matter how much Yoongi wanted to turn around, to go back in that office and spill to Hoseok all of his troubles and concerns, to ask for advice and watch Hoseok’s brow crease as he tried to think up solutions to Yoongi’s problems, Yoongi knew he was in a fragile emotional state. He was on the rebound. If something were to happen between them, Yoongi might not be able to make it last, and Hoseok deserved better.

So Yoongi nodded, but he kept walking, straight down the hallway, past the receptionist, and out into the chilly morning sunshine that reminded him of Hoseok’s smile.

Coffee.

The next day when Yoongi showed up to collect the documents from Hoseok's office, there was a cup of coffee waiting for him on Hoseok's desk.

“It's a mocha, actually. You do like mocha, right? Last time you put the cocoa in your coffee so I just guessed-”

“Mocha is good,” Yoongi stopped him. “No worries. Thank you.” The coffee was definitely unexpected, but the more Yoongi thought about it, the more he realised that it shouldn’t be. He knew Hoseok was thoughtful; this was just proof of that fact.

“You have no idea how relieved I am that you showed up again today. I would have looked really weird offering this to the usual guy. ‘Hey, I’ve seen you nearly every day for two years and still don’t know your name. Have a coffee.’” Hoseok laughed, and the rich sound that bubbled in his throat would have been one of the most pleasant sounds Yoongi had ever heard if it weren’t for the inhale that followed, a squeaky, wheezy noise that sounded like a dying seal. Not that Yoongi could judge. He figured his own laugh was more on the squeaky-wheezy side than bubbly-throaty and not that nice to listen to, but Hoseok… he could listen to Hoseok laugh all day.

Coffee quickly became a regular thing. On days when he didn’t have any other stops to make, Yoongi would hang around Hoseok’s office to drink the mocha Hoseok bought him and listen to Hoseok’s gritty voice as he talked about literally anything that came to mind. Yoongi learned that Hoseok liked music and had thought about becoming a producer when he was in college until his parents had talked him into a more stable career, that he liked to jog and took kickboxing classes two evenings a week, and that he was a decent cook and especially liked to bake cookies. Hoseok had even brought Yoongi a box of snickerdoodles as proof. Hoseok was physically incapable of keeping his mouth shut, and Yoongi absorbed every word like a sponge, filing the information away for later when knowing something personal about Hoseok might be of use.

“You have a dog?” The question caught Yoongi off guard. Yes, he had a dog, but how could Hoseok know that. In the weeks that he’d been listening to Hoseok tell him all about his life, Yoongi had revealed very little about himself. “Your jacket. It’s covered in brown fur. Is it a cat?”

“Oh. No, it’s a dog. Holly.”

“Ah, cute name. I love dogs. That’s my Mickey.” Hoseok pointed to a picture frame on his desk that Yoongi had never noticed before, a tiny brown and white fuzzball with big eyes. He was adorable, and Yoongi could just picture Hoseok cooing over his little furbaby. It was disgustingly sweet, even in his head. “Do you ever take Holly to the park?”

“Not as much as I should,” Yoongi admitted. “We go on walks, but he hardly ever gets to play with other dogs. Jin’s dog, Jjangu, used to keep him company, but… well, ya know.” That was a conversation he didn’t really want to have. He still hadn’t spoken to Seokjin, and he still wasn’t ready to talk to Hoseok about it either.

“Aww, you should join me and Mickey sometime. We go to the dog park every weekend.”

“I don’t know.” Yoongi didn’t want to commit to anything. If he didn’t show up, it could make things awkward between them, and Yoongi didn’t want to make things awkward. He liked how easy it was to interact with Hoseok. He looked forward to their brief daily visits.

“Suga,” Hoseok said, smacking Yoongi’s shoulder lightly, “it’s not a date. Look, I usually take him after lunch on Saturdays, the park on Central Ave with the duck pond. It’s a public place. Just… show up if you want.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Yoongi halfway agreed, and his heart fluttered a bit when Hoseok smiled hopefully at him.

Yoongi didn’t even think about the dog park again until later in the week when he was choking down a late dinner of soggy cereal in his nearly pitch dark apartment, lit only by the blue-ish light from the muted television. Holly was sitting on one of his feet at the other end of the couch, patiently waiting to the milk out of the bowl. He looked so sad and lonely, and Yoongi felt like a horrible pet owner for neglecting him. Yoongi didn’t really neglect him. Holly was well fed and well loved; Yoongi just wasn’t home as much as he should have been.

“Do you miss Jjangu?” Yoongi asked Holly. If Holly had eyebrows, they’d have shot up quizzically. Instead, two little brown ears perked on top of his head, and he snuffled against Yoongi’s sock. “Yeah, I miss Jin, too, but we’re like… not right together, ya know? I saw him today with that new guy. He looked really happy, Holly. They both did. I don’t think I ever made him so happy.” Yoongi wasn’t sure why he was talking to his dog as if he were a person, but it seemed to relieve his own loneliness a bit. “But I think I met someone. He’s nice, and he has a puppy, too. You wanna meet another pup tomorrow? His name is Mickey. He’s cute. You’d probably like him. Do you wanna go to the park and meet Mickey?” Holly tilted his head sideways with such force that one of his ears flopped inside out across the top of his head. “Park? Wanna go to the park tomorrow?” His mouth popped open, tongue lolling out. “Yeah, let’s go to the park tomorrow, Holly.” Holly yipped and hopped over to Yoongi’s lap, and Yoongi smiled at him and reached out a hand to scratch behind his ear.

Karma must have still had a bone to pick with Yoongi after the revenge paintings because when he woke up the next morning it was pouring rain. He highly doubted Hoseok would still go to the park with the duck pond overflowing. Leaning his forehead against the sliding glass door, he watched the rain fall and fall, drops splashing in the puddle that had formed in the dip of the patio pavers. Holly whined at his feet, wanting to go out, but Yoongi knew if he opened the door, Holly would just stand there, confused as to why his toilet was soaking wet.

Yoongi put the leash on him anyway and pulled on his raincoat. “Come on, boy. Let’s go for a walk.” Holly would probably need a bath after this, but he’d been cooped up in the apartment for too long. Yoongi owed him a walk.

It took multiple tugs on the leash to get Holly to leave the steps of the building, and then he turned left instead of following Yoongi to the right when they reached the sidewalk. Only a block away from home, Yoongi had to carry Holly over a puddle.

Holly did his business just as the rain slowed to sprinkle, and he turned to head home until Yoongi tugged him back again. They hadn’t walked far, and if the weather was going to semi-cooperate, Yoongi wanted to let Holly burn off some of his energy before they went home.

He continued down the street, not even paying attention to where they were going. Holly trotted along beside him, looking up at Yoongi every so often like he was very confused by the whole situation. Next thing he knew, they were standing outside the entrance of the dog park on Central Avenue. It was mostly deserted, but Yoongi could hear barking and familiar laughter, Hoseok’s laugh. When they stepped through the gate and Yoongi closed it behind him, Hoseok called out to him.

“Suga! You came! Is this Holly? Oh, he’s so cute! Hey there, buddy. This is Mickey. Mickey, come say hi.” Of course Mickey didn’t listen and continued his lap around the park, head held high to keep his frisbee out of the puddles he was tromping through. Mickey’s fur was coated in mud everywhere except around his gigantic eyes, but he was clearly enjoying himself. “Did you bring him a toy? I’ve got some extra tennis balls in my bag if you think Holly would fetch,” Hoseok rambled on and on from where he was crouched in front of Holly, ruffling his curly, brown fur. Hoseok’s expression was the brightest Yoongi had ever seen, so bright Yoongi was blinded by his smile. It was like staring at the sun. His eyes crinkled and his nose scrunched and his full lips spread to show his round, white teeth. And there were dimples. Oh, heaven help Yoongi, when Hoseok smiled, multiple tiny divots appeared around his mouth, and Yoongi’s everything ached to be the one to make them show all the time.

Long, slender fingers snapped in front of Yoongi's face, startling him into taking a step back and earning a whine from Holly when the leash pulled at his collar, but the leash was the least of Yoongi's worries. His foot landed in a patch of mud and slid right out from under him. Yoongi grabbed the first thing within reach in a vain attempt to stay upright, Hoseok's hand, and the two of them fell in a tangle of limbs to the wet ground.

Yoongi could feel the mud seeping into his clothes, up the legs of his jeans and through the seat. His hood dropped off his head, and rain trickled down his neck to wet his t-shirt. He groaned, but then Hoseok was laughing. Laughing!

There he was, knelt between Yoongi’s feet. One of his hands was on Yoongi’s knee, the other wrist deep in the mud. His shoes were muddy, his knees were muddy… he even had mud splattered up the front of his windbreaker and all over his face, and he was absolutely tickled by the whole situation. Yoongi could only stare in disbelief as Hoseok chuckled and chortled until his face was nearly purple and he was struggling to in a real breath.

“Oh, . I thought Mickey would be the only one needing a bath this afternoon, but…” Hoseok surveyed the damage, a few more breathy giggles escaping at the sound when he lifted his hand out of the mud.

“I’m really sorry,” Yoongi said when he finally got past the shock of it all. “I’m sorry, Hoseok. I just-”

“It’s fine, Suga. Don’t worry about it.” Mickey had made his way back to them and was sniffing curiously at Hoseok who patted the pup’s head without a second thought. He looked up at Yoongi, still grinning. “Actually, I think this is a good opportunity.”

“Opportunity?” Hoseok nodded, pushing himself to his feet. He snatched up the frisbee Mickey had dropped and hurled it across the field. Mickey immediately took off after it, and to Yoongi’s surprise, so did Holly, bounding away with his leash trailing behind him. And then there went Hoseok as well, splashing through puddles and slipping on wet grass as he chased the pups.

Yoongi watched them make their way across the field and by the time Mickey and Holly realised they were being chased and turned to run the other direction, Yoongi was standing at his end of the field as if he were guarding a goal. He grabbed at Holly as he tried to run past and scooped him up to remove the leash before lowering him to the ground and chasing him back in Hoseok’s direction.

For the better part of the next hour, Hoseok and Yoongi took turns running Mickey and Holly back and forth until finally Yoongi collapsed in the grass. “No more. I’m done. Done, Holly. Please, no more.” Holly trotted over to some of the mud off of Yoongi’s face, and when he opened his eyes, Hoseok was staring down at him with his hands on his hips.

“Out of shape,” Hoseok tsked, but he was having trouble catching his breath as well. “I think we accomplished what we came to do. Mickey is gonna sleep through the night for once.”

“Uh-huh,” Yoongi groaned as he tried to sit up. The rain was starting to pick up again, washing some of the mud from his face. “I better get Holly home before he passes out on me.”

“Awww. Are you sure I can’t talk you into having dinner with me? Us.”

As much as Yoongi wanted to say yes, he was a sopping mess, and Holly would need a bath before he could run free in the apartment, too. “Rain check,” he said as he clipped the leash back onto Holly’s collar, “but we’re on for coffee Monday morning?”

“Yeah, yeah of course,” Hoseok agreed. He sounded disappointed, but he was also distracted, busy scraping mud off the bottoms of his trainers. “Hey, Suga,” he called as Yoongi was starting to walk away. “I’m really glad you came.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi mumbled, kicking his feet in the grass for a moment to hide the tint of pink in his cheeks. “Me too. See you Monday.”

“I’ll be there. Bye Holly.” Holly yipped at Hoseok as Yoongi led him through the gate and out of Hoseok’s sight. They didn’t even make it to the sidewalk before Holly forced Yoongi to carry him the rest of the way home.

Seokjin's diner wasn't Yoongi's only canvas, just the largest. When he wasn't running documents around town for the courier service, Yoongi could usually be found in a warehouse he rented with a few other artists he'd made friends with in art school. He liked to play around with textured canvas, pieces of fabric unevenly glued to squares of Masonite. Nothing he painted at the warehouse was realistic. He didn't do landscapes or still life paintings or portraits. He mostly played around with different color schemes and blending techniques, and he was good at it, even if it didn't bring in any money. Yet. He was hopeful, but he wasn't stupid. Yoongi knew he was just a courier with a very expensive hobby.

But he did enjoy his job as a courier too. He spent most of his time traveling back and forth across town with no one but traffic to bother him, and his limited human interaction now included daily visits with a cute attorney who still called him Suga.

Periodically, Yoongi would visit different private galleries in the city in hopes that someone would like his work enough to offer him an exhibit. He’d been doing it for years with no success and was gradually losing hope that anyone would ever want to sell his art. Though he sold a few pieces online, the kind of people who bought art online didn’t usually go for his particular style.

It had been a few months since he made the rounds to the local galleries. He’d been busy with his courier work and spending time with Hoseok and Mickey in the park. He still painted nearly every day, but he just hadn’t bothered to share his work with anyone lately.

Yoongi had imagined many times what it would be like to hold an exhibit at a gallery. He’d speak shyly to strangers about his work as he sipped wine with Seokjin at his side. Seokjin had always been supportive of Yoongi’s art. He told Yoongi that everyone should get the chance to live his dream. Seokjin had his diner, his own dream, and Yoongi had his art, and Seokjin wished that one day Yoongi would get his exhibit.

Maybe it wasn’t so much Yoongi’s busy schedule that kept him from visiting galleries lately as the loss of his number one cheerleader, but it didn’t matter that he’d slacked off. A gallery had finally come to him. They had an opening in their schedule, and the curator remembered enjoying Yoongi’s use of color. He wanted Yoongi to bring by some samples of his work to determine if it was right for the gallery.

After agreeing, Yoongi’s first instinct was to call someone to share the good news, but he had two problems. First, the person he would have called was no longer speaking to him, had cheated on him and left him. Second, he didn’t want to call Seokjin. He didn’t want to share his exciting moment with someone he no longer loved. That in itself was a bit of a revelation, but the truly surprising thing was that calling Seokjin hadn’t even crossed his mind. The moment he ended the call with the gallery curator, the first thought that popped in his head was I need to tell Hoseok which left him wondering, when had Hoseok become such an important part of Yoongi’s life?

Yoongi decided that it was time to admit that he was over Seokjin, but before he could truly move on, he needed to go talk to Seokjin and get some closure.

With the exception of Seokjin’s annoyed expression, sitting across from him in a booth at the diner almost felt like stepping a year back in time. Seokjin looked exactly the same from his fluffy, dark hair and strong eyebrows to the smears of chocolate frosting and tomato sauce on his apron. But the expression definitely was annoyed. He could have given Yoongi a run for his money on that front.

“Just tell me what you’re doing here, Yoongi. I need to get back to work.”

“Yeah, I know,” Yoongi grumbled, but he tried to fix his attitude before he continued, taking a deep breath and reminding himself that this was a better way to heal. “I just… I’m sorry, Jin. I shouldn’t have painted you like that. I should have accepted our breakup like a man. I was hurt, but that’s no excuse for what I did and… I’m just sorry.”

Jin’s face went from glaring at Yoongi to blank, eyes blinking at him in surprise. He obviously wasn’t expecting an apology. “Th-thank you,” he stammered. “And I forgive you. I think I owe you an apology as well. You should know that I never wanted things to end up this way. I really did love you. Still do, but Jaehwan… He snuck up on me. We were just friends… until we weren’t, and by then it was too late.”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to explain. And honestly, I just want you to be happy,” Yoongi admitted. “You are happy, right?”

“Yeah, I am, but not because of Jaehwan. Business is good, and I get to do what I love every day. I’m in a really good place right now. Jaehwan is just… icing on the cake. Please tell me you’re happy, too.”

Yoongi scratched the back of his head and puffed up his cheeks. “I’m… getting there.” He thought about telling Seokjin about the gallery, but decided to save it. His heart was telling him it was important to tell Hoseok first. “I’m happier,” he said instead. “I was wondering if I could ask a favor though. Can I use your wall again? I promise to keep everything G-rated.”

“Of course. Yeah, please. Yoongi, your art is one of the best things that ever happened to my diner. Just please, no more pictures of me.”

“No, no. I won’t. It’ll be nice from now on. I swear.”

It was only another minute or two before one of Seokjin’s employees begged him to get back on the grill. Yoongi watched him go and felt like the weight of their failed relationship left with him.

Yoongi found inspiration for his art from everything around him, and his mood often dictated what he would paint. When things were good between them, Yoongi had painted Seokjin a herd of pink alpacas and a comic style version of Jjangu on the diner. When things got bad, he produced a series of small, red and black Masonite tiles with angry, slash-like brushstrokes. Since he’d met Hoseok, Yoongi’s work often showed swaths of pinks and oranges against blue backgrounds, bright yellows bursting from the center of the canvas, and on the diner, ceramic pots of hyacinth in varying shades of blue and purple and white and the sun rising over a mountaintop complete with a layer of smoky fog gathered around the base of the mountain. They were gifts, offerings to Hoseok, an apology for the disgusting things Yoongi had subjected his office to in the aftermath of his breakup with Seokjin, and Hoseok accepted them joyfully.

“Wow, Yoongi. This is amazing!” he gushed when Yoongi showed up for coffee.

“You're not gonna call the police on me?”

Hoseok chuckled. “No. I mean, it's not vandalism if you have permission, right?”

Yoongi assured him that he did have permission, and then he opened his mouth to tell Hoseok about his gallery exhibit, but he hesitated. Hoseok didn’t notice. He changed the subject to Mickey again, and Yoongi didn’t say anything because he felt like the moment had passed.

The problem with never talking about himself was that when he needed to, Yoongi didn’t know how. For four days he let Hoseok interrupt him and talk over him, unable and unwilling to assert himself, but by that point his exhibit was a week away from opening. He needed to tell Hoseok, and he needed to tell him immediately.

“It’s always awkward when you change an old man’s will and he suddenly drops dead a few days later. The police came around asking questions about it like I know anything about the reason he-”

“Hoseok, I have something to say,” Yoongi interrupted, ignoring the fact that he was genuinely curious how often Hoseok’s clients dropped dead just days after seeing him.

“Oh, sure. Go ahead, Suga.”

“Well I have this um… art exhibit.”

“Exhibit?” Hoseok leaned forward in his seat, giving Yoongi his full attention. It was a little unnerving. “Like at a gallery?”

“Yeah. It opens next Thursday. They’re… they’re actually gonna sell my art. It could be my big break. It’s kind of-”

“Huge!” Hoseok squealed. “This is huge, oh my gosh! Suga, that’s incredible! I’m so happy for you! Can I come see your work?”

Yoongi turned red all the way to the tips of his ears. Despite Hoseok’s apparent interest in Yoongi and his life, Yoongi hadn’t actually expected Hoseok to care so much. He wanted to tell Hoseok how he'd actually hoped Hoseok would come with him, as his date, but even bringing up the exhibit took most of his courage.

“Yeah,” he whispered instead. “I'd like for you to come.”

“Incredible,” Hoseok said again, this time in a soft, awed voice, and his lips were stretched into that smile that made Yoongi’s chest feel warm and tight, like his heart had grown too big to fit in his ribcage. “So Thursday?” Yoongi nodded. “I’ll be there.”

Yoongi worked day and night for the next week, collecting everything he wanted to show at the gallery and trying to finish a few last minute pieces as well. Most of the paintings were his usual stuff, but he wanted to give examples of all of his different abilities. He included some of his portrait work from school, the ones he’d managed to finish anyway, and some more recent landscapes of places he’d visited nearby.

The day of the opening had finally come. Yoongi was nervous. He was dressed in the only suit he owned, one he’d bought specifically for the event. The jacket felt stuffy, and he was pretty sure the tie was trying to strangle him. Yoongi looked good, though. He’d made sure. There was even product in his hair since he couldn’t cover it with a beanie or hoodie, and he'd smeared a bit of concealer under his eyes to hide the deep bruises from all the sleep he'd missed.

He checked and rechecked every piece in the collection as he waited for the curator to open the doors, and as people filtered through the halls of the gallery, his eyes kept roaming in search of the one person who actually mattered to him. There were canapes and wine, but Yoongi’s tummy wasn’t willing to accept either. He stood stiffly in front of the painting he’d chosen as the centerpiece and shook hands and made polite but stilted conversation with those who wanted to meet the artist.

An hour in, Yoongi was exhausted. His shoes were pinching his toes, and the gallery lights made his eyes burn. There was a headache throbbing in his temples, but he couldn’t help feeling a little proud. The place was packed, and all those people were there to see Yoongi’s heart poured out on canvas.

“Wow,” he heard someone murmur nearby, and he knew that voice. Hoseok was just the next room over, examining the landscapes. His mouth was hanging open, a smile curling the corners of his lips, and those damn gallery lights that were such a pain in Yoongi's eyes caused a sort of halo effect around Hoseok, making him look angelic.

Yoongi watched Hoseok make his way around the room and then enter Yoongi's room where he stopped at the entrance, frozen in place by what he saw behind Yoongi. The centerpiece, Yoongi's masterpiece, was a profile of a man, lit from behind by a radiant sun, his face tilted skyward to absorb the rays. The subject’s eyes were closed, long lashes fanning out across high cheekbones, his expression serene, windblown hair swept off his face to reveal his forehead. Hoseok's eyes focused on the canvas for several minutes before finally settling on Yoongi. He waited for a response, squirming under Hoseok's gaze as the man’s mouth opened and closed, clearly lost for words.

“Suga-”

“Yoongi,” Yoongi corrected, wanting to hear Hoseok speak his real name for once.

“Yoongi,” Hoseok repeated, a bit of pink dusting his cheeks. “Everything is so beautiful.” He gestured around the room. “You’re… I mean I knew you were talented, but this… Wow.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi answered, just barely stopping himself from messing up his carefully styled hair in embarrassment.

“I can see so much of you in every piece. It’s just really… Wow,” Hoseok said again. “And this…” his eyes had returned to the painting behind Yoongi, “I don’t actually look like that, you know.” The dusting of pink had turned to a full blown, tomato red blush.

Yoongi turned to look at the painting he’d titled ‘Hope’. “You do,” he whispered, “or you did that day, at least to me. Hoseok, I-”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you just say it? I thought I was pretty obvious about my feelings, but you never said a word. You could have just told me.”

“I'm not-” good with feelings, he almost said, but he stopped when Hoseok's words registered. “Your feelings?”

“Yeah, Su- Yoongi. I like you.”

“You do?” The words all but squeaked past Yoongi’s lips, causing Hoseok to laugh lightly.

“Yes, and you…” Hoseok prompted, pausing to wait for Yoongi to catch up.

“And I… I like… you. Too.” There it was, the smile that was the sun itself, lighting up Hoseok's face. Yoongi felt his gums showing as he returned the smile.

“I would kiss you,” Hoseok confided, “but I don’t think this is the place. Can I cook you dinner instead?”

“You cook?” Yoongi’s brain was still trying to catch up.

“Oh, Yoongi, I may talk about myself a lot, but there are things you’ve yet to learn,” he teased.

Yoongi reached out to take Hoseok’s hand and pull him closer, tucking him into his side with an arm around his waist. “I look forward to learning everything.”